


Didn't Count on That

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (well... hinted-at force-sensitive Poe), Force-Sensitive Finn, Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, M/M, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe and Finn go undercover together to get some intel on a couple of First Order higher-ups... nothing quite goes as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Didn't Count on That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chen_CHING](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chen_CHING/gifts).



> Hey! I got a bit locked-out of posting because some complications led to me getting this up a bit late... wasn't able to submit it anonymously and be part of the reveal later, but I really wanted to just get it posted as soon as I was able to, so I'm so sorry about how it turned out!

The planet isn't much to look at-- at least, not compared to plenty of the sights that Poe has seen on missions before. But around the casino itself... that's a different story. There's everything you could want within easy distance of the casino, and if you were a high-roller, all you had to do was ask and someone would make sure you never had to leave your seat to get it.

Of all the missions he's been on as a spy rather than a pilot, he thinks this one is about to be his favorite. 

The general had told him not to ask about where the credits came from, and he hadn't asked. He hadn't needed to, really. He wasn't going to question the credits, and he wasn't going to question her judgment. He'd been surprised she'd even thought she needed to tell him that one, until she briefed him on the rest of the details.

On the one hand, he's thrilled that he gets to do this with Finn. After everything, Finn deserves this... Finn deserves a mission that comes with a bit of fun. Low risk, for him-- Poe can't imagine that any possible First Order survivors of Starkiller will be having a night on the town after the way that battle had gone down. Finn won't be exposed to anyone who would know his face, but he'd been sure he would recognize anyone important enough from holovid mandates and propaganda, and if he didn't recognize the face, he'd told the general he would recognize them by how they spoke. Even if code words and phrases changed for security reasons, there was a lingo that persisted, a way of speaking that might be subtle, but something he'd noticed a lack of on Jakku and with the rebellion. 

With all that in mind, Poe had had to agree that Finn was the only person who could come with him, and he isn't really worried, but he can't help feeling like as much as Finn deserves to get out and see fabulous things and gamble a bit and maybe take home a souvenir or two-- purely as part of their cover, of course, but wouldn't it be nice?-- Finn also deserves to be able to walk away from all the fighting now that he's helped to bring down Starkiller.

Still... he wouldn't be going on the mission if he hadn't wanted to stick around. And if Poe needed to be reminded, he knows all he'd have to do is ask the man himself. Finn is more than capable of making his own decisions now that he's left the First Order behind. He's smart, resilient... he'd caught on quick to so much, and Poe doesn't know how many other people could do that, shake off all the indoctrination and the lifetime of not having choices, he doesn't even know how well he would be able to manage it himself, but he's seen Finn get along well enough. And he thinks he might wind up being grateful to have a good shot like Finn backing him up, if things do go south.

The ship they take is a beauty, even if she's nothing truly special. Nothing special is the point of it-- it can't look like a rebel ship, after all, but a discreet weapons system isn't out of line for a high rolling gambler's personal transport. No BB-8, which Poe feels a little guilty about, but he can't argue with facts-- his droid had been the First Order's most wanted, and there's no way that their cover wouldn't be blown if he brought his little buddy along on this one. 

He checks his reflection one last time before he and Finn exit the ship. For once, his hair isn't haphazardly tousled and mussed, and he has the urge to do something, run his hands through it, but he clenches his fists briefly and lets the impulse pass. He's playing a part, and that part is a man with perfectly-coiffed curls, and perfectly tailored clothing. And Finn...

Finn is absolutely beautiful, in sky blue, the perfect combination of crisp tailoring and fluid draping. 

"You don't look very comfortable." Poe teases, aware of the hypocrisy there.

"It's... it's just fancy, is all." Finn shrugs, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "And weird-- isn't it?"

"It's all the rage for handsome, well-to-do young men on Bespin this year. The idea is that the incongruity of..." Poe stops with a sigh, not quite able to remember the spiel that they'd been given alongside their outfits. He makes the mistake of stepping in too close, of reaching up to fix the drapery at Finn's shoulder and looking him in the eye. "I forget. Something about strong, harsh lines and soft, beautiful eyes. Lines. Or something like that."

"Well... I'm still getting used to just being able to dress like a normal person, being well-to-do is a little more than that. But it would probably draw a few stares if I walked into that casino wearing a scorched and patched-up leather jacket." Finn smiles, and Poe doesn't think there was any chance he hadn't caught that slip-- there's just no way. But he lets it go without comment, at least for the moment. For the mission, he thinks. Anything personal they can talk about on their way home, safe and victorious.

\---/-/---

Finn does draw stares, when they walk into the casino. Appraising, mostly, and occasionally lascivious, but none are suspicious. With the fancy clothes and a couple flashes of gold, nothing about him looks dangerous, just young and beautiful-- and spoiled. He has Poe's left arm, and all he has to do is steer him towards anything that pings on his radar. They've practiced walking together like a couple, they've practiced their own code phrases, though those are fairly loose and flexible. Finn had practiced grabbing Poe's arm and exclaiming over things in excitement, had practiced a tone of mingled pleading and delight which Poe would chuckle and acquiesce to. They would wander and mingle about the floor until Finn caught something suspicious, then Finn would play the part of eager arm candy and get Poe to whatever table they needed to be at. And once they had enough, all he had to do was ask Poe to take him somewhere for some privacy and they could hash out the next step and get out. Easy.

The practice had been the best kind of torture, as far as Poe is concerned. With Poe's team egging them on by shouting out all the circumstances they might have to be prepared for, they'd been close and coupley all over the base. A great laugh for everyone, sure, but it got harder and harder not to do something real.

Now, though, it's showtime, and all of Poe's rehearsal-related anxieties are gone. All he feels is focused and ready now that he's here. And while Finn's acting hadn't been great in rehearsal, surrounded by all the flash and excitement, he has no problem selling it-- even though his attention is on the mission, there's no need to fake his desire to see everything, or his delight in it. 

Their marks are at a sabacc table, when they find them, and it's not hard to tell the two are First Order-- even out of uniform, Poe can tell as well as Finn can, there's something about them that just screams it. They talk openly enough between themselves, but the jargon is impenetrable, at least as far as anyone else around them is concerned. As far as Poe is concerned as well, aside from a few obvious phrases. If they are discussing plans, he's still lost on anything meaningful. Finn squeezes his arm and smiles, though, and settles right down, so he trusts that Finn is going to get something out of it.

Poe loses his first couple of hands, though he does so gracefully. As long as the money holds out long enough for Finn to get all the information they need, he's fine... As a boy, he'd learned Corellian spike sabacc, and if they'd been playing at that variation, he thinks he'd do well enough, but it takes him a while to adjust to playing the unadulterated version of the game, especially as he pushes away the more personal side of the memories of learning-- of sitting around the table with Han and Chewie and Ben, back when he was still Ben, of the halfhearted complaints from their mothers over Han 'turning the into degenerate gamblers', and his own father's laughter, the incredulity in his tone when he'd gestured to them and said 'these good kids?', and everything had been so different back then... 

He can unpack those feelings later, when the mission is a success, when he's home. 

Before he can worry about gambling away their credits too quickly, Poe's luck turns. He even takes some of his attention off of the game to check in with Finn, as much as he can do, but even mentally checking out for a hand doesn't ruin his streak. He feels like the luckiest man in the galaxy until one of the First Order officers whispers to someone and that whisper travels down to two Ubese in dark clothing and dark visors.

"... I have a bad feeling about this." Poe whispers-- and it's about all he has time to do, before he's being whisked off, leaving Finn at the table frozen in shock.

Poe doesn't blame him, there's no good course of action to take. Surrounded by so many people, nothing seems like a good idea, not running, not fighting... Finn's best bet is to pretend to be a pretty piece of unwitting arm candy picked up as part of the rebel spy's cover, just as shocked as everyone else. If he can play that part, Poe rationalizes, he can get to safety and formulate a backup plan. He can get the information out even if he can't come to Poe's rescue this time around... that's the important thing. 

He hadn't expected the officers to have a goon squad on hand, but that had been short-sighted of him. What tipped them off? Had his face gotten out? He wouldn't have guessed, he'd assumed that as long as he dressed the part and combed and gelled his hair out of its usual disarray, his face wouldn't be enough to hang him. Granted, security footage of him probably existed, from his time as Kylo Ren's prisoner, but most of it would be from overhead, or he would have been cut and bruised up enough to alter his appearance a little... and with his escape ending the way it had, and Finn thinking he'd died, with the fact that he hadn't reemerged outside of an X-Wing since, he'd hoped he would be written off entirely. He's just glad that he's the one who was on their radar and not Finn, Finn who actually had the intel they'd come after.

They don't take him up to a hotel suite, which is kind of disappointing, but not surprising-- the officers wouldn't want his blood all over their rooms, and they wouldn't want to be billed for cleaning up after him. He anticipates a back alley, or perhaps a secure transport to a second location, perhaps some nearby base, depending on whether they think he's worth more alive... Instead, he's taken to a dark room underground somewhere and all but thrown into a chair. 

There's barely any light, but what there is reflects off of the visors, harsh, and it just doesn't feel like there's enough room in the room. The two Ubese guards have a way of looming that makes any sense of personal space disappear. Poe just tells himself he's been through worse, but at least he'd gotten out of having his mind ripped into alive, and he's not sure his luck is going to hold out this time. It's hard to tell when all he can see is the visors.

"You're about to find out what we do to card counters." One of them grunts. With the small space, the hard, echo-happy walls, and the enviro-suit helmets behind their visors turning any voice into a similar synthesized snarl, Poe can't really tell which one of the two it had been, but he dismisses that question as unimportant.

In fact, his list of Important Things had just recalibrated itself in an instant to include three points;

1) The guards did not know that he was a rebel spy-- and presumably they worked for the casino and not the First Order, as Poe would not be surprised to learn that when the First Order played, the house waited for their say before calling security.  
2) Finn might still think these guards had dragged him away as a spy, and it was imperative that their cover not be blown now.  
3) He was about to find out what they did to card counters.

He's not keen on the last Important Thing at all, but it's a little better than worrying about the second. 

"I think there's been a misunderstanding." Poe tries for a laugh, and tries to look charming. He can usually count on his charm for something, even if that something is only a moment of confusion to take advantage of.

It's true, of course, that there had been, and as grateful as he is not to have been caught as a rebel spy, he really hadn't been counting cards, and he'd like for that to count for something.

"You'll understand by the time we're done."

"No-- no, really, I wasn't counting cards. Look, you can take the credits, you can ban me for life, but it was just dumb luck, really! It's always been dumb luck!"

It had been dumb luck playing cards as a child, too, though it was never quite so spectacular then. But he'd held his own against a seasoned gambler and a proud-padawan-on-leave, and he's pretty sure Ben had tried to use the Force to get a read on the cards some of the time.

He cuts his brain off right there, can't afford to let his thoughts wander down that path now. 

The guards mutter to each other in Ubese and share a laugh, and while Poe hadn't understood the words, he certainly gets the gist of the joke at his expense. He's not so lucky now-- and they probably think he's pretty dumb, thinking he could get away with card counting.

They work him over, between protestations of innocence, and it's still not the worst he's ever had-- the Ubese may have a reputation for violence, but after all, he's dealing with security guards, not mercenaries. And he certainly isn't dealing with the First Order. It would have been nice to avoid the beating, but once he knows they're only trying to scare him and make a lesson stick, there's nothing to be afraid of-- except the guards figuring out that he isn't afraid of them, which he figures would actually be incredibly suspicious. 

Pain still hurts, and that takes a lot of the burden of acting off of his shoulders-- he doesn't have to pretend to recoil from a blow when one is really coming. 

He's not entirely sure how long he's been in the little room with them when the door swings open, admitting a figure in the same uniform of black enviro-suit-- though without a reflective visor covering the suit's helmet-- and with an impressive vibro-blade sword. Clearly not just one of the grunts, and clearly here for a reason. 

There's a gesture and a jerk of the thumb towards the door, and both the guards duck out-- another joke at Poe's expense seems to pass between them, if the dark chuckle is any indication, the visors giving him a last look before they leave. 

He wonders why the visors, when the enviro-suit helmets keep their faces hidden anyway-- to be able to watch the whole room by positioning themselves properly and using the reflections? Or to give the victims of their beatings a good look at the fresh bruises? The latter isn't actually too outlandish, he realizes-- it's kind of a relief not to be looking at his bloodied face anymore. 

"Relax." The head guard says.

Poe laughs, but it's cut short-- laughing hurts, and when they brought in the big guns, his opinion on 'just scare tactics' went out the window, so he's not sure if he should find any part of his situation funny. 

Had his cover been blown since he was dragged off, then? He wonders what his odds are, but he doesn't like the look of the vibro-blade and he can only see out of one eye thanks to the swelling bruises. Even if he could break free during a transfer from casino security to First Order, he wouldn't be able to fly... and there's Finn to think of.

"It's kind of hard to relax when you're having your face tenderized." He retorts, because whatever's coming, he'd like his captors to remember him as a guy who went out with wit and elan...

"Yeah, you've looked prettier." His new guard says. 

He had not anticipated a retort-off with an Ubese casino security guard when he'd geared up for this mission, and even when a couple of said guards had dragged him off to a back room for his beating, he would not have anticipated the implication he'd been pretty before. The only thing that could surprise him more, where hired Ubese security was involved, would be seeing one remove the helmet of their enviro-suit, and yet that's the next thing that happens, and it leaves Poe without any follow-up retort at all.

He only needs one good eye to recognize Finn, and oh, if he'd thought he looked good before... although he thinks he should chalk that up to the sheer relief that floods him at seeing Finn's face, and not the flattering qualities of the uniform enviro-suit. 

"Buddy, we really have got to stop meeting like this." He sighs, a laugh fighting to escape him again.

"We have got to get you out of here." Finn gives into it, and they grin at each other in spite of the danger of the situation, in spite of the pain it causes on Poe's end, and it feels like something is there between them that Poe can't even describe. All he can really say is that Finn's laugh feels like his own, and Finn's smile feels like his own, and his heart twists sharp with something else he's not really ready to unpack, not until they're safe. 

"Think we can make this plan work twice?" Poe asks. 

"I think we'd better try, because we don't want to be around when someone finds my clothes in the guards' locker room and figures out I stole a spare uniform. Or, I mean, if the guard who took me there wakes up."

"Yeah, I want to hear this story later." 

Finn laughs, and Poe's heart jumps and dances in his chest, even after the helmet is back on. 

They get lost a couple of times, in the labyrinth below the casino, passageways for staff and security, but they play their parts well enough when they run into others, Finn gruffly tossing off a line about giving the card-counter what's coming to him. Steering Poe by his left arm again, but in a very different role. This time, though, even though they have less idea where they're going, Finn is more in control of himself. At least, Poe doesn't hear any pep talks coming through the enviro-suit helmet. 

They find the back exit eventually, and then all Finn has to do is tell the security detail there that he's personally escorting the cheating scum out to his ship and making sure they won't be dealing with any more card-counting from him in future, and they really are home free.

"I hope you're up to playing co-pilot." Poe says. Taking off is easy, and the ship's systems will handle a lot, but Poe has never liked relying on the computers to do a pilot's job-- at least, not when he's the pilot.

"How blind are you?" Finn asks, nerves finally creeping into his voice.

"Just... keep an eye on things for me-- only one. I've got the other." He jokes. "Hey-- hey, relax, right? I could fly blind if I had to."

Finn nods slowly. If anyone could, Poe could.

\---/-/---

General Organa greets them personally when they get in, and Finn reports on the intel first. Poe is a little surprised just how much he'd managed to glean from what had seemed like such a casual conversation over the card table, but then, perhaps there had been whispers after he was dragged off? Only no, they'd only thought he was counting cards. 

"Also, here are the credits." Finn says, surprising Poe yet again as he hands over the winnings he'd clearly had the presence of mind to pocket and escape with before pulling off Poe's rescue. "Plus enough to cover the undercover outfit I lost you."

"Yes, I wondered why you were..." She gestures, encompassing the enviro-suit, a little smile coming over her. "I take it plans changed."

"You could say that, Ma'am." He nods. 

"Finn was amazing." Poe grins, not feeling nearly so formal. "I got pulled for counting cards, and--"

"And where did you learn to count cards?" 

His grin doesn't even falter. The tone in her voice is so warm and so familiar, something he'd once feared might be lost... even if the war itself didn't change things, her own personal tragedies certainly did, and General Organa always seemed a harder, sadder woman than the Leia he'd been so enamored with as a child, who'd been practically an aunt to him and whose exploits so captured his imagination, who could simultaneously be a war hero and a princess and a second mother figure whenever their families were able to visit... 

"It was just luck, really. And-- no one ever taught me how to count cards." He fumbles over his words a bit, not sure if he should mention Han's name or if it's still too soon. It feels that way to him, it still feels unreal some days, except he has dreams of seeing it from Finn's eyes or from Rey's. But he also has dreams of Han coming home and saying it had all been a mistake somehow, a mass hallucination. How much worse must it be to lose a husband than an uncle? And a son, in a way, all over again... rank being what it is, he's never felt like he could just talk to her about it all, like he could ask if she also thought about Ben and Ren as separate people just to stay sane some days... he felt like he had to pretend he'd never sat on her knee as a small boy, because she needed to be the general to everybody. 

"Just luck?"

"Intuition, maybe, but... I don't know. I was really just... letting the game happen, until we could get something out of all the code talk. Then the security detail dragged me into a back room for a little talk about my luck running out. Business as usual." Poe manages a smile that doesn't quite hurt, and feels charming enough, and it gets a laugh out of her that makes him feel just as proud and pleased as he ever had when he was a child.

"Business as usual." She nods. 

"I didn't even know Finn had time to grab the credits, I was just praying he wouldn't say the wrong thing or get himself thrown in with me so that he could get the intel back to you, but the next thing I know, there's another security guard barging in and sending the first two off, and here I am, thinking 'well this is it, Dameron, you're going to wind up in a ditch next', and instead the helmet comes off and I see that beautiful smile--"

"I don't even know what got into me," Finn talks half-over him. "I just grabbed the next guard I saw and told him I needed a uniform, and... I mean, I just kind of hoped-- I don't know much about how the force works, but you hear stories, and-- Wait, beautiful?"

"--And then it's pretty much like the first rescue I told you about." Poe finishes, turns back to Finn, blushes. "Well, look, you were a sight for sore eyes at the time. Anyway, you're the one who called me pretty."

"Well, thank you for the information. I'll make sure it gets into the right hands so that we can act on it." Leia nods, by way of excusing herself, her gaze falling to the helmet in Finn's hands, her smile faraway for just a moment.

"Ma'am!" Finn snaps to stand at attention, and copies the salute that Poe gives-- a bit neater than Poe gives it. 

"General." Poe smiles after her, and his heart twists again as things slowly fall into place in his head.

He and Finn shuffle around each other for a long moment, before he can work himself up to speak, but when he does, the anxiety vanishes. It's a little like being on a mission, at least in that way. He can't worry when he has his objective in his sights-- if he fails, then he can pick apart his worries later. If he succeeds, then he can kiss them goodbye.

"You never did say how you found me." He takes the helmet from Finn's hand and sets it to the side, stands so close he's not sure if he's feeling his own heart beating so hard or if he's feeling Finn's in time with it. 

"I just felt you." Finn shrugs. "Like you were calling for me."

"Well... I don't know about that. I was thinking about you. I guess... in my more selfish moments, I was hoping you'd come to my rescue again, instead of just getting out with the intel."

"Yeah, well... can't blame you for a selfish moment, while you were getting this." Finn reaches up, his fingertips not quite making contact with the worst of the bruises. "Back to 'beautiful', though--"

"Well, it might take me half an hour with some bacta, but I think I'll be my gorgeous self soon enough."

"I meant me. You called me beautiful-- and not just talking about the rescue, either. Think you mentioned my eyes, back when I was in that high fashion ensemble."

"Yeah. Well... they are eyes worth mentioning." Poe shrugs. He lets his fingers lace with Finn's. "I mean, am I... am I crazy here, or...?"

"You're not completely crazy, nah." Finn smiles. "But I think we should get you fixed up with that bacta, before I do anything that might hurt that split lip."

"Might be worth it." 

Finn laughs, and Poe can feel it in his chest. Finn kisses him, and Poe has no complaints whatsoever.


End file.
